Changing the Base of Knowledge: Reader as Writer?
Knowledge and Authority, part one.

     In Richard Lanham’s The Implications of Electronic Information for the Sociology of Knowledge, Lanham backgrounds his theory by reminding us that "The basic operating system for humanistic knowledge from the Renaissance until the present has been the codex book." 

     Lanham continues: 

     "Onto this technological marvel the humanist ideology grafted the concept of the authoritative text. Humanistic scholarship existed to rescue, edit, and annotate the great texts of antiquity and to publish them in definitive editions. Cultural authority flowed from these texts and thus their dissemination mattered…"

     Detailed explanations of the entire development of the codex book can be found in Jay David Bolter’s The Writing Space: The Computer, Hypertext, and the History of Writing, as well as in Ronald J. Diebert’s Parchment. Printing, and Hypermedia, and Charles T. Meadow’s Ink into Bits: A Web of Converging Media.  For details see:

Bibliography

     He then suggests that a pivotal moment is at hand: 

     "What happens when…humanistic knowledge moves from book to screen? The operating system changes fundamentally."

     Lanham contends that electronic publishing "radically compromises the cultural authority of the text." He believes that electronic publishing "desubstantializes the arts and letters" and wrests control of the dissemination of knowledge and authority from the univocal concept of the individually authored text. 

     In this view, texts are seen as being presented and interpreted in an entirely new way. We are asked to conceive of a new kind of interplay between author and reader. 

     In Implications… Lanham writes:

     "The reader defined by print--the engrossed admiration of the humanist scholar reading Cicero--now becomes quite another person. He can quarrel with the text, and not marginally, or next year in another book, but right now, integrally. The reader thus becomes an author. Author and authority are both transformed."

A central idea of postmodern thought is that control of the production of "texts"--really any kind of communicative act--is not in the hands of the individual, but is the product of   the individual's societal, cultural, and historical context. 
     The authority that once rested solely with the author is now shared in a manner reminiscent of Derrida's sense of "intertextuality" where the entire system of knowledge—and the generation of knowledge--are part of the "text"--which is defined as an ongoing, cultural dialogue defined by readers, writers and their contexts. This dialogue has the potential to expand exponentially in an electronic environment. Lanham writes:

     "Freedom of the press, the cynical proverb hath it, means owning a printing press. Now, through desktop publishing programs, such ownership has been radically democratized. This democratization indeed constitutes a revolution in "the social basis of. . .production and dissemination" for humanistic knowledge. But desktop publishing brings other changes as well. In a print world, we think of print as fixed, "cold type" even when it has been produced by photography. You set it. In a desktop publishing world, you flow type. The fundamental metaphor shifts from static to dynamic. This "liquidity" of our basic alphabet will affect in profound ways how we think about reading, about literacy itself."

     Whether type is "cold," or it "flows," is probably simply a matter of trade-specific jargon, or perhaps just a reflection of the relative difficulty or ease of setting type using different technologies.  It is hard to argue the point that we can more quickly and easily alter and refine texts and images with digital technology.  What is interesting here is the way in which the theory of intertextuality, and the new latitude given readers in the production of texts, fits so well with the technology.  And it does, but the really important issue is--even given intertextuality coupled with greater multiplicity in the production of texts--there is no gaurantee of equality in the reception and acceptance of published works.  Some works will still be more "valuable" than others, mostly because they will fulfill some role in supporting existing power structures and hierarchies.  Watch the network evening news or read a Gannet newspaper and this should not be too difficult to detect.

     Theoretically, we are first given  the proposal that everyone can publish, and second that even if they choose not to publish, anyone can become part of the publishing process through the act of reading from the screen, and perhaps sending a quick e-mail to the author, or even altering the texts if so desired.  But the question of real democratization is more a matter of political and power relationships than it is of advancing technology.  Copyright laws exist to protect authors from having their work (and monetary profit) stolen or altered.   These will not go away because of different ways of presenting texts.

     Writing and publishing are traditionally acts of asserting beliefs and positions that we would like others to share.  Those beliefs compete for validity in the lareger social sphere.  I would not be writing this right now if I didn't think I had some point to make, or some authority to say what I am saying.  And, of course, I want you--the reader--to see my point and agree that it is valid, that I am not insane, etc. Our dominant model of publishing is that of classical rhetoric, or persuasion--the idea that the work contains some kind of truth that should be respected.  Convincing people that a radical freeing up of publishing rights is a good idea is many steps removed from convincing people to attempt the difficult task of organizing their thoughts "on paper" (so to speak), only to release that work to a public that values no specific work any more or less than another.  Ideology being what it is, we accept some truths as being "truer" than others.  The idea behind having large publishing companies is that the work they produce is "valuable," and in the case of the news media that the facts being reported are just that, facts.  We assume that these powerful institutions are accountable for providing first-rate, "true" or "real" information.  But it is ideology that drives the content and analysis of information.   In all of the above theories, exactly how networked, computerized publishing will remove this is left very unclear.

    The independent publisher is often in the business of pointing out imperfections--political or otherwise--in the search for impoved material and social conditions.  Equalizing the ability to publish will not make the world a perfect place, no matter how subjective that idea of perfection is.  And that is the point-- ideas of perfection are subjective.  Whose idea of perfection is best, or most "perfect?"  And whose will dominate, given demorcracy, fascism, anarchy, or any political construct?  Fundamentalist Christians groups like Focus on the Family will not allow the idea of the Muslim faith being every bit as "correct" as theirs just because as many Muslims are publishing as Christians. 

     We must be careful when postmodernists throw around the term "democracy," keeping in mind that democracy is an inherently competitive political theory, and could most likely not exist in the depoliticized theoretical world given by writers like Lanham.  We vote for, or support, that which we believe to be "best" from the competing options that are presented.  The power to present information is therefore much more crucial than the power to have the most utilitarian ideas.  If the only options given are bad ones, we still must chosse from amongst them.  Really, distilled to it's essence, even any kind of consensus is competitive.  The only democratic political reality that can arise from the presentation of ideas, and the ensuing, enlivened debate over those ideas is the adoption of a system of power relations that favors some ideas over others.  The crucial idea is to get the most equitable ideas to become the most powerful--not to get all ideas equal, and therefore stripped of their relative value.  Thus far, throughout history, it has been the power to present and convince on a large scale that has prevailed.  Modern marketing and advertising represents the most powerful kind of persuasion we have ever seen--on a global scale-- and there is no reason to think that in the near future the Internet and its contents will not be as heavily marketed by large corporations as anything else that can produce a profit.

For a fuller investigation, please see Sven Birkerts thoughts on the authority of the printed text, as well as two insightful critiques of his work at:

Birkerts vs. Stephenson and Unsworth.

 

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